Dr Quinzel transformation
by ThequeenofGotham2504
Summary: Maybe I went too far? Personally, I don't think I went far enough.


1 . Arkham Asylum  
_**ARKHAM ASYLUM* *_

I'm sitting at a table, talking to one of the most twisted minds in  
the world. What am I doing with myself? It's probably a dream. I'll  
wake up soon. The Joker is never who everyone suspects him to be, he  
always makes a different story for each doctor who talks to him. Am I  
different? Probably not, but we'll see.

"Hello, my name is Doctor Harleen Quinzel, I am a psychiatrist at  
Arkham. I'm here to help you" I say, though his pale white face  
screams at my eyes but I do not show panic, nor fear.

I sit, anxiously waiting the reply from a psychopath.

"Harleen Quinzel? Such a terribly formal name. Tell me, do your  
friends call you Harley? I think it's much cuter. If you wanted to  
make it official, why not call yourself Harley Quinn? Now that sounds  
much more appropriate. But then, that's just me" he says, staring at  
my face with lust.

Maybe it's a sign of affection, but I can't assume anything yet. I  
try and stay professional, despite feeling uncomfortable with the  
situation I find myself in.

"I don't really have any f riends ... Anyway , why are you here?" I  
say .

He's flirting with me, is this a strategy to get me on his side? To  
make me fall for his story? I wonder.

"Why, to tell you my story! It's a wonderful little tale, I'm sure  
you'll enjoy it. But if you don't then... well don't tell me what you  
thought of it" The Joker replied to me, gritting his teeth and making  
his eyes kill me inside.

I need to choose my words carefully.

"I'm ready to listen to you, please, tell me anything" I hope this  
shows my compassion and understanding, even for the criminally  
insane. His scarred mouth makes a smile.

"Well, Harley" he winks, as he continues explaining his back-story.

"I would like to start out by saying you have an incredibly beautiful  
voice. I could talk to you all day. But... Oh, yes! My story! Well,  
you see my parents were murdered in front of me, and I was told by my  
dad, I should smile more. So I took his word in his dying breath and  
carved a permanent smile on my face. That way, I can always be happy.  
And make others happy too" he stopped smiling. "It's not just clown  
makeup, it's a real scar. Painful, maybe but quite the conversation  
starter ... I ' m surprised you haven't brought it up yet actually" he  
has such a confidence in his words.

It's certain he's sick, twisted too. I only hope he's telling the  
truth .

"Oh my, I'm sorry you had to go through that" I said, trying to  
reassure him once again I'm here to help.

"Don't be, I was the one who murdered them!" he laughs, loudly.

For the duration of the laughter I feel my heart skip a beat. He can  
see my fear, he _loves _it . He knows what I want to say, but I won't  
say it.

"Mhm, crazy right? Well maybe everyone's got a little craziness  
bottled away, it's healthy. You must want to know what it feels to  
let out the insanity. To give in to the little voice in your head  
that says 'do it' and once you actually kill someone, you know you're  
free . Free . "

I swallow nervously and although petrified, I find myself drawn to  
his explanation. True or not, the level of psychological trauma he is  
showing me is fascinating.

"But why, why did you do it? What lead you to act in such a way?" I  
asked, but I found myself lost in his presence.

"Why do you do anything, Harley? Revenge? Boredom? No, you do it  
because you feel like it. And maybe because my parents disapproving  
of my depression was aggravating to listen to... all the time. I  
granted their wish though, I now smile and laugh more. Must be a win  
win! Of course, well... now they're dead. But that's hardly my problem  
anymore. But tell me about you, Harleen. It's boring to talk about  
myself in such a positive light all the time."

He gave me chills. Actual chills.

"I want to understand your reasoning, your motive and most  
importantly, I want to help you." I say, writing several notes on a  
piece of paper positioned on the table.

Joker is tormenting me silently with his glare. I can't see his eye  
contact directly. I can feel it.

"You have such a beautiful voice, I could listen to you all day." he  
said, edging his chair closer to the desk and putting his handcuffed  
wrists on the table.

"Uh ... thanks " I say, accepting the compliment awkwardly.

His green eyes are locked firmly on me.

"Harley, why would you put yourself through a job you don't enjoy?

Why don't you let yourself be free? Be happy. I can tell you're bored  
and it's not because of me, I'm way too fun to be boring!"

He makes a valid point, I really don't like this job. At all. I've  
always wanted to enjoy the freedom but what is he suggesting?

Romance? Escaping? I can't, I won't. He can see I'm in  
denial .

"I... I can't... I won't" I find myself stuttering, I want to say no  
but in my brain it screams for me to say yes.

It's agonizing too, his words are like daggers into my heart and each  
one is splitting my sanity open. I somehow think he's being genuine.

I think he's actually telling me the truth.

"Come now, such a beautiful young girl like you should be out there  
ruling the world, with me. Harley, come with me. I promise you it'll  
be okay. Nobody has to know. Nobody needs to know"

I cannot fault his affection any longer. Joker puts his handcuffed  
wrists towards me.

"But of course, I can't do this without you" his words are so sincere  
it ' s sickening .

The key to his chains is in my pocket. I have the key to his  
f reedom . . . and maybe mine as well.

"Okay" I say slowly.

I get the key out of my pocket and unlock his handcuffs. He stands  
up, moves over to me. Closer. He embraces me softly. I suppose he  
could've killed me if he wanted too, but he didn't.

"Thank you" he said.

I found my arms slowly admitting affection towards The Joker.

"You may not have many friends, Harley. But you have me now" he  
kissed me on the cheek.

Did I just give up my sanity? I don't know, it's so crazy my mind  
can't process what's going on right now. But my eyes meet his and we

exchange a discreet kiss on the lips.  
Harley? I like that name. I like The Joker.

2 . First Date  
_**FIRST DATE**_

I feel dizzy, unsettled. I can't move, my eyes are blurry. What's  
happening? I try and look around and I see tools. Sharp ... tools .  
There's a bright light above me, looks like I'm on a surgery bed.  
About to die. Then... he emerges from the darkness and right in front  
of me. The Joker. My god, what have I got myself into? I should've  
seen it coming. I knew I shouldn't have trusted this psycho. Too late  
now, I guess now I pay for my mistake ... with my life. He touches me  
on the cheek, he's wearing a purple surgical glove on his hand. It  
feels smooth on my skin. I want to scream, though my mouth has been  
taped shut.

Screaming wouldn't change a heart of a criminal, not even love.

Unless this is revenge for his past, or being locked up in Arkham. He  
brushes the strands of blonde hair from my face with his fingers and  
then smiles at me.

"Good morning, my dear! Goodness, you are adorable when you sleep. Of  
course...! couldn't risk your betrayal so I had to make sure you were  
genuine. Don't bother struggling, screaming or whatever. Harley,  
you're mine. And you'll always be mine, but right now... well you're a  
little too 'perfect' for me. I like my girls with some bad blood in  
their body. Some real attitude. I know this isn't how you pictured  
our first date but don't worry! It'll be fun! Well, for me anyway" he  
lets out a maniacal laugh.

I hate my empathy towards him. Surely he wouldn't kill me, right? I  
mean he was too nice to me to end me so quickly. Oh no . . . I bet it's  
going to be torture. Actual torture, all the signs are clear. I  
swallowed and began breathing heavily. I could only use my trust to  
pray that he wouldn't kill me.

"You're scared, aren't you? It's to be expected. Heck your boyfriend  
just turned on you! Oh! What a back stab huh? Not the case, my dear.  
Not the case. I just wanted you to be a bit more 'evil' if you know  
what I mean" he smirks.

His smirk kills me inside. I see him as I try and follow him around  
the room with my eyes. He picks up a knife, licks the blade in-front  
of me and heads back over to where I'm restrained... against my will.  
He unbuttons his maroon long sleeved shirt half way. I can see the  
tattoos on his chest. I saw the intensity of the green hair dye, and  
the 'damaged' tattoo on his forehead. His body was muscled, he was in  
good physical fitness. That was clear to me.

"You know, I told you a true story, Harley. I said that my father  
would tell me to smile more. So when I was killing him, I carved a  
smile just like mine on his face, I then asked him 'why so serious?'  
and then as his lifeless body fell to the ground I felt a boost. A  
huge moment of adrenalin and it was amazing. But don't worry, I'm not  
going to kill you. I might just hurt you though. A lot" another  
maniacal laugh echoes the darkness in the room.

I start trying to struggle more violently and the muffles from my  
mouth under the tape are still just muffles. He rips the tape from my  
mouth. Painfully.

"Why... what did I do to you?" I muttered, sadly.

I don't expect cooperation from him anymore, I don't expect anything  
anymore ... except pain.

"Nothing you did, Harley. Something your parents did, though." he  
smiled, putting the blade of the knife towards my throat.

I tried to stay perfectly still. If I struggled, my throat would be  
sliced open. I would die within minutes. But what does he mean? What  
did my parents do? I hope he isn't going to kill them. I try and hide  
the tears running down my cheeks. Always assume the worst ... that ' s  
what my parents told me. I'm guessing he feels my intellect must be  
punished, and the ones responsible would be my parents.

I feel weak and powerless. I can't do anything. If I say anything  
he'll probably hurt me. He takes the knife away from my throat and  
wipes the tears off my face with his hand. The hand which isn't  
holding the knife, luckily. He threw the knife at the wall. The knife  
landed on a picture. A picture... of me. He picked up the knife from  
the fresh hole in the wall and placed it on the table next to me. He  
came over to me. He removed the glasses from my eyes gently. He  
placed the glasses on the table.

"I want to admire your beautiful blue eyes. You don't need glasses.  
You don't need anything, anyone. You have me" he took off one of the  
purple gloves and stroked my cheek with his hand. "You have me" he  
repeated softly. "Now then, on to more important business matters.  
Tell me, Harley." he picked up the knife from the table and continued  
talking . "Have you got any worries? Concerns? Anyone who you want  
dead? I would like to point out that I am not eligible as an answer  
to this question" he moved the knife close to my chest. "I hate  
doctors you know, they always tell me what I can and can't do. You  
wouldn't do that, would you Harley?"

"No" I said nervously.

"No what?" he demanded a more lengthy response.

"No, sir" I replied.

"Please, call me J. Sounds more romantic" he looked at my flat  
chest .

Which was apparently nearly naked. I could feel a chill, I was only  
wearing a short cropped t-shirt. I didn't realize he almost made me  
naked. Almost.

"You know, Harley. You would seriously benefit from some ink. Some  
tattoos would spice up your dreadfully dull and formal persona. Don't  
you think?" my heart skipped more than one beat at this moment.

I really hope he wasn't implying that he would use a knife to carve  
'tattoos' onto my skin.

"Come to think of it, add some makeup and a bit of hair dye, a change  
of clothing and some tattoos and you'd look drop-dead-gorgeous."

"I don't have a choice...do I?" I said, painfully preparing myself  
for the torture I was about to endure.

"Harley, you always have a choice. I'm just making the choice for  
you!" and there is that maniacal laughter again.

Signature laughter, really unique tone.

"Now, if I unlock your restraints are you going to try and escape?"  
he asked. "Though if you try and escape or attempt to kill me then  
well. I'll have no choice but to kill you. So what do you say?" I  
could tell he wasn't in the mood for games, I didn't have a  
choice .

No matter what. Harleen Quinzel had to go. Then it hit me, the actual  
acceptance of a new, darker persona. And personally, I think I was  
ready. No... I knew I was ready.

"Sure thing. Mister J" I said, seemingly not caring about anything  
anymore .

Mister J was more adorable than J, or Joker but also slightly formal  
too .

"That's my girl." The Joker removed the restraints from my arms and  
legs .

I sat up. The choice I had was escape and be killed or stay and live.  
My mind was made up.

"I knew you were in there somewhere, that's my Harley." "Jester  
fashion is so in season right now. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked  
me .

"Oh yes. I love it." I said, hugging the tattooed criminal closely.  
Whispering in his ear "I love you. Mister J."

I felt free. It was so odd, yet so exciting. He handed me some white  
face-paint and a small brush. He held up a mirror for me, this was my  
moment. My big transformation. I took the brush and started painting  
my face pastel white. It looked incredible. He then offered me some a  
selection of makeup.

"Where did you get this? How did you get this?" I asked.

"It's beautiful" I said.

"I stole it, for you" he replied, smiling as he handed me blue  
eye-shadow .

I applied the blue eye-shadow to my right eye. I smudged the blue  
eye-shadow for a messy effect. I was never messy. I then did the same  
for the other eye, only in pink eye-shadow instead of blue. My red  
lipstick smudged onto the white face paint, made it look like I had  
blood near my mouth. Of course. Mister J had me covered and offered  
me a bright red lipstick to coat onto my lips. Though, I liked the  
look of the blood on my face. I couldn't tell if I liked the new look

or not. Mister J smiled at me.

"You already look so much better, Harley." he said.

"Why do you wanna change me. Mister J? Don't you love me the way I  
am?" I asked.

"Of course my dear! It's just that, a change is a good thing, it's  
like we're putting your old self to bed and welcoming a brand new  
Harley Quinn. I for one, love the new you" he replied.

It was true, as Harleen I didn't have any fun, any friends or anyone  
who thought I was beautiful. Now, I can actually love myself. My new  
self .

"Before you say it, I know. My hair is boring. It's boring and it's  
not fun. Well I agree, I thought you'd say it. I suppose you want me  
to change my hair too?" I asked, slightly annoyed at him for wanting  
to change so much of my appearance.

Though I didn't disagree with his reasoning.

"Harley, I love your hair! But why not make it, as you say 'more  
fun'. I got some dye!" he said excitedly as he pulled out a bottle of  
blue and a bottle of hot pink hair dye.

"Oh my gosh, I love those colours!" I squealed with excitement.

"I knew you would" he smiled.

He went and got two containers and tipped a bottle of dye in each  
one. One blue, and one pink.

"Fancy some dip, dying?" he smiled.

I looked at the containers full of brightly coloured hair dyes and  
smiled at him. I partitioned my hair into two halves. One half I  
dipped in blue dye, about a third of the hair was coated in blue. I  
then dipped the other half of my hair into hot pink hair dye. I took  
both halves out of the dye and let them drip. I remembered I had a  
couple of spare hair ties in my trouser pocket so I tied my hair in  
two separate tails, one at each side. Not loose, tight. The dye was  
dripping onto my body. It felt incredible. Though this is only the  
beginning, I'm so happy Mister J is making me do this. 


End file.
